


Leave You In the Gutter

by saltycvs



Series: blood red nails [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, F/F, Genderbending, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Russian Mafia, YOI Mafia Week, Yakuza, Yakuza Yuuri Katsuki, am I cheating by including that but idk haha, day 4: weapons/roses, day 6: blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltycvs/pseuds/saltycvs
Summary: Now that she thinks about it, the idea seems rather silly. Vika is the pakhan, the leader of the Petersburg bratva, what will she do with a flower?A flicker of the bright lights overhead cuts through her thoughts like a knife, and Yuuri drops the flower onto the desk, as if scalded.Another flicker, and then the office is plunged into darkness.





	Leave You In the Gutter

**Author's Note:**

> Because people seemed to like this AU, I thought why not add to it? 
> 
> This is done for day four and six of Yoi Mafia week. I'm not sure if that's cheating but, there's blood involved, so I thought I'd pass it off as that.
> 
> This is... probably the most graphic violence I've written yet. It's not that bad, but I'm being cautious because I usually censor a lot when it comes to violence, but I didn't this time. 
> 
> I do suggest you read the story before this one in the series; just to get a general idea as to what is going on! It's 'Don't Leave the Party Dying.'
> 
> Title from Caravan Palace's 'wonderland'. They're the only thing I've been listening to while writing these.
> 
> Unbeta-ed.

_“If you come with me, I can offer you anything.”_

Amused, Yuuri trails a hand along the desk. There isn’t a speck of dust that gathers on her leather glove, the surface is utterly spotless. In fact, in Viktoria’s office, everything is spotless. Yuuri likes to think that it much reflects her owner’s personality—clean, precise, gorgeous. But open the drawers? It’s a right mess.

Yuuri knows, because she’s seen these drawers before.

Sinking into the plush leather office chair, Yuui releases a sigh, her fingers twirling the single rose in her hand.

They had barely any contact at all, lately. Yuuri has been run ragged by the kumicho, ordered into one region and, before she could really settle and take a breather, into another. But such was her job.

  
Sleepless nights were abundant, for most of them she spent crouching in a dusty attic or some sort of room, her rifle in hand. Any letters Yuuri would receive, she was under strict conditions to burn, and most of them were so cryptically worded that they provided little to no solace.

She thought it was time to pay a visit.

After her first encounter with Viktoria in the ballroom, Yuuri had become intrigued, and rightfully so. Never has she heard of a female leader before—and the pakhan, no less. Russia, with all its religious and patriarchal ties, accepted and respected Viktoria as any other. Perhaps even more. It makes Yuuri muse about what exactly the other woman has had to do earn such unwavering loyalty and fear.

She’s almost scared to find out.

Tracing a petal of the rose with her finger, Yuuri bites her lip.

Their meetings after that had been chance (although she very much doubts them to have been so, as Yuuri has no illusion that their entire first meeting had been anything but an artfully executed sham. One that Viktoria planned herself), fleeting things.

At times, Yuuri will find herself being handed a slip of paper by one of Vika's _byks_ , stating an address of an old warehouse or some place else, where she'll find Viktoria herself, standing with a finger pressed to her lips in a mock of secrecy, her suit pressed and her shoes shiny. These times are not abundant, but happen often enough that Yuuri no longer finds it surprising when a stranger brushes past her in a street, little piece of card stock slipping into one of her pockets.

They never speak of their jobs, or what they're doing. They have an agreement of confidentiality, the both of them. An unspoken oath that they both took.

After all, both Yuuri and Viktoria understand each other's position, and it goes unsaid that if one of them were to destroy the other, it would not end well.

Each time they meet, Viktoria always asks the same question. will you come with me?

Yuuri never answers.

She doesn't know what they are, and won't ask. Vika is very touchy, often thumbing Yuuri's chin, or twirling her dark, shoulder length hair around a slender finger. Each time, Yuuri flushes, her trained composure cracking just that little. But at the same time, Yuuri knows Viktoria will benefit from inviting Yuuri unto her side, so perhaps this is her way of seduction for that exact purpose.

Yuuri will admit, with all of her hurt pride, that it isn't completely ineffective.

Their last meeting had been frantic, Yuuri having to depart for Kyoto in a number of hours, and Viktoria waiting to fly back to Russia on the same day. Her business in Japan, whatever it had been, was finished.

Although Vika said that they would see each other again (I could never forget someone like you, Yuuri! How could you even think that? I've searched for you, and now I've finally found you!), it had been months until the kumicho had proposed Yuuri an assignment in Russia.

Which leads to her here, now, sitting behind Viktoria's desk, twirling a rose in her hand.

Now that she thinks about it, the idea seems rather silly. Vika is the pakhan, the leader of the Petersburg bratva, what will she do with a flower?

A flicker of the bright lights overhead cuts through her thoughts like a knife, and Yuuri drops the flower onto the desk, as if scalded.

Another flicker, and then the office is plunged into darkness.

Instincts kick in. There is no way this is an accident-- these are headquarters. Perhaps not the main ones, but power shortages are not something that the bratva would have to worry about.

This is intentional.

Out of the chair in seconds, Yuuri is pressing up against the nearest wall, shrouded in the dark. Her clothes, dark and form-fitting, blend her in with the shadows as she listens for any noise.

Her breathing quiet, she calms herself, so that her heart is not longer pounding in her ears. The adrenalin is present right under her skin, making her ready to pounce, but instead she focuses on shuffling closer to the door, making as little noise as possible on the carpeted floor.

The door creaks open.  
  
It is not Vika who enters, that much is clear. The person takes extra care to juggle the lock, bypass any traps that Yuuri had worked on putting back in place just like they were before she entered herself.

As Yuuri is on her way to lay a hand on the gun at her waist, the figure enters the room.

She freezes, knowing that any wrong move will give her away, and instead tries focusing in the dark, seeing if she could identify any features of the figure.

He (she's pretty sure it's a man) is standing with his back to her, fiddling with something in his hand.

Yuuri holds her breath when a flashlight is clicked on, and presses herself closer to the safety of the shadows.

The man pauses, sweeping the floor with the light, illuminating the large, mahogany desk in front of him.

Yuuri quickly runs through her options, while his surveillance buys her a few seconds of time.

She can make a break for the door. It is not too far from where she is standing, and if she makes it out, then perhaps she can alert one of Viktoria's men. But, she could be mistaken for an intruder just as quickly. That is, if she makes it past the door-- she has no idea how good of a shot this man could be.

Attacking him is the second option, but it's more dangerous. He's certainly trained, and will pick up on her movements immediately. That'll lead to a scuffle, and Yuuri, although armed, doesn't have the precision of a flashlight. He'd blind her before she'd make a decent shot.

Holding her breath, Yuuri waits.

When the man moves around the desk, flashlight sweeping over the ground, he catches sight of her.

For a second, all time stops. They stare at each other, before there is a rustle of fabric and he's vaulting over the desk, dropping the flashlight in his hurry.

It drops on the floor, rolling.

Yuuri manages to duck, but he slams full-body into her, knocking her down on the floor and scrambling for her hands. There's a glint of a blade in the dark.

Locking her arms around him, Yuuri tries to flip them over, but he's strong on top of her, pressing her down completely. If she can only manage to reach her gun--

"Don't." The man hisses, his words heavily accented.

Yuuri freezes, her blood running cold. She feels the press of the knife she'd caught a glimpse of at her neck. It's cool where it touches her skin, deathly sharp. She resists swallowing.

"Stay quiet, or I'll cut that pretty little neck of yours." The knife digs deeper, and Yuuri feels a drop of blood swell from the cut.

She stays quiet.

"Now, tell me: where does Nikiforov keep his papers?"

Yuuri wants to laugh. So he is a fool. A newbie. It's why he hasn't killed her yet. He's a fool for doing this, and double that for assuming that Viktoria would keep any of her business here.

He thinks she's working for Vika, then.

"Second drawer from the bottom, on the left." Yuuri says, hoarsely, trying to move as little as possible.

The knife draws more blood, the pressure now a nick.

The man grunts, and tugs Yuuri up with him, her arms still locked behind his back.

Tugging her roughly back towards the desk, he slams a drawer open, blindly. The knife still presses at her throat, but now, it's amusing.

He's panicking, and Yuuri can tell. He hadn't expected to see anyone, had planned to be in and out of the office in mere minutes. Yuuri just had to be a frustrating obstacle. He probably plans to grab a whole stack of papers, papers that are meaningless. A cover for the deals Viktoria must keep safely under lock and key.

Yuuri clears her throat, the knife pressing uncomfortably against her skin.

"I said quiet, _cychka_!"

Papers go flying.

"Sorry." Yuuri replies, before there's an outbreak of movement.

With her hands locked behind the man's back, she flips them over, slams him backwards into the desk with all of her force. The knife that had been at her neck is knocked aside, and she wrenches the hand that had been holding it behind the man,

He tries to twist, stubbornly keeping his silence even as his face grows red with the pain, but Yuuri doesn't allow him to.

A gloved hand finds purchase in his sweaty hair, gripping tight, and she slams his head down against the wood, hard.

And again, and _again_.

Until she feels the slipperiness under her hand.

The man groans, jerking. He isn't trying to fight back any more. It's incredibly easy. Practised, fluid. Yuuri doesn't even flinch when he cries out. This is what she does.

Reaching for her hip, Yuuri pulls her gun out, and then it's over quickly.

The bang is loud, deafening in the small room. It echoes, and the recoil shocks Yuuri's arm, even though she is prepared for it. The quarters are close-- it's instantaneous. It blows half the man's head off, splattering Yuuri and her dark clothes with blood.

There's a fountain of it. She's drenched.

Yuuri curses herself. She should've aimed lower- for his chest. That way they could've still identified him by his face if need be. But she had to act quickly.

The lights burst into life, and Yuuri has to squint, the assault suddenly too much for her eyes. There's loud voices outside, feet running.

The door bangs open. There's Mila, Georgi, and Viktoria. Viktoria is _here_ \--

"Yuurachka!"

Yuuri looks at Viktoria, almost blankly, the gun dropping from her hand. Suddenly she's worried about how she looks. There's probably blood and bits of dead guy in her hair. She hates this, this is horrible. This is nothing like shooting from a distance.

Each time, she wishes she won't have to do it again.

But she will.

"Clean that up." Viktoria barks at Mila and Georgi, her eyes fixated on Yuuri. She doesn't give the dead man (or what's left of him, anyway) on the desk any mind. This isn't anything new.

"Yuuri, darling." She starts, before she's making her way around the desk, her heels silent on the carpet.

"Darling," she repeats, and she's almost worshipful with her words, as if Yuuri is the most beautiful thing she's seen all week.

"Vitya--" Yuuri starts, then stops, her eyes turning to the body on the desk.

A gentle hand cups her cheek, drawing her gaze away from where the intruder lies and onto Viktoria. Those warm blue eyes, that make Yuuri feel as if she's drowning. The tall woman's touch is cold, but it's a blessing on Yuuri's heated skin.

"Not that I am not thankful, but what are you doing here, love?" Viktoria asks, as if there isn't a dead body being dragged off behind them. The bright lights play off her silver hair.

"I brought you a rose." Yuuri replies, and it's a whisper. Her eyes trail to where the flower had fallen of the desk. Surprisingly, it's still completely intact.

Viktoria laughs, noticing it too, those perfect red lips forming an enticing little heart-shape.

She leans in close to Yuuri, wrapping an arm around her waist, and Yuuri almost has half the intent to tell her to stop-- that she's completely drenched in blood, but Vika doesn't seem to care that her expensive suit is being ruined. Viktoria nuzzles into Yuuri's neck with her nose.

"Yuuri, you drive me wild."

"He wanted some of your papers. I don't know which, or what about, but he-- he was some novice. I'm not sure who would've..."

"What do I care about a silly thing like that? There was nothing important here. He was nothing. My girls would've disposed of him, if you hadn't." Viktoria cards her fingers through Yuuri's hair, easing the ponytail, running through the stickiness.

"O-okay." Yuuri says, quietly, her eyes flicking to Viktoria's lips.

She doesn't see Mila and Georgi slip out, the body with them. There's still blood on the desk, the floor, on Yuuri.

Viktoria smiles again, leaning close, her warm breath fanning over Yuuri as her fingers continue to play with Yuuri's hair.

Yuuri is the one who closes the distance, a small sigh filling the silence when their lips connect. Viktoria's are soft, despite her lipstick, and she groans appreciatively.

A deft tongue laps at Yuuri's lips, at the blood that splattered close to them. Vika's hands press Yuuri all the closer as they kiss, slow and sweet -- as if anything about what they do could be considered as sweet.

"Gorgeous, Yuuri."

And Yuuri _melts_.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay, that was a ride.
> 
> I know this may be unpopular, but within this I do believe Viktoria would like to use the 'Yuurachka' diminutive with Yuuri, because it's cute, + it sounds a bit feminine! And although Viktoria goes by Vika, she definitely likes being called Vitya, just like her male counterpart, too.
> 
> Kumicho: Leader of Yakuza  
> Pakhan: Leader of Russian bratva family.  
> Byks: byki are like... the henchmen of the Russian Bratva. They're not the lowest, but they're not an Avtoritet.  
> Cychka: a Russian swear, derived from cyka (bitch). It's kind of more derogatory in a way. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr and feel free to ask questions at saltycvs.


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